


Time to let go

by stopthedimples



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, F/M, Friendship, Marriage, Memories, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:30:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopthedimples/pseuds/stopthedimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he laughed so hard at my English literature joke that he spit strawberry milk out his nose, and all over my favorite shirt. When he punched my first boyfriend for breaking my heart, all the times he held my hair while I threw up. When he took me to prom, all of this as friends of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time to let go

“I’m never going to understand your taste in music.” His hands were cold and his face was in a smolder, eyes squinting at the small screen in front of us. We flooded music video after music video trying to find something we could both agree on.

“I’m never going to understand how you’re in a boy band.” I shrugged my shoulders at his scowl and reached passed him for my water. It was almost a perfect experience, like I’d just been jolted with lightening. That something inside of me had snapped, buckling my mind down, just for a second anyways.

I liked being here with him, on nights like this. It was nice to say the least, there was a lot I could say about it, but I didn’t have to explain myself to him. That’s what I loved.

He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his knuckles against his closed lids, like a small child ready for their afternoon nap. He had a smallest amount of stubble already growing, and his lips were parted in a small yawn. He was beautiful.

“Remember that time you peed in the park?” He laughed shutting the laptop down and getting off the couch to turn the lights back on. He stretched reaching towards the ceiling, his shirt rising just enough to set me off.

“I was thirteen Zayn why would you even bring that up!” He just shrugged laughing still. God I loved his laugh. I loved everything about him. But what was I to do now?

I shuffled in my spot, trying to stop the heat from radiating off my body. Absentmindedly I twirled the ring placed on my finger, ‘how could I tell him?’ I thought to myself thinking back on all the times we had together. When I peed in the park, he dared me to what could I say? When he gave me my first kiss again the willow tree behind our secondary school.

When he laughed so hard at my English literature joke that he spit strawberry milk out his nose, and all over my favorite shirt. When he punched my first boyfriend for breaking my heart, all the times he held my hair while I threw up. When he took me to prom, all of this as friends of course.

I wonder if he thought of these things, these pertinent moments.

Almost like he knew what I was thinking he reached over and grasped my hand. “What are you thinking about?” His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he bit in anticipation.

My mind raced through what I had been thinking about, filtering memories out to try and find something appropriate to say. Something that didn’t sound like I was falling in love with him, again.

Now I can call it love cause I’m an adult and I’ve felt it. But then I was just a kid, ten. My parents had moved in next door to the Maliks and Zayn used to walk passed me while I played in the garden and kick dirt at me. When I asked why he would do such a thing my dad told me that’s what boys do when they like you.

And then I decided I liked him too, but it didn’t go away. It followed me for years, i’d get caught up in his eyes. Or thrown into a trance at the way he would speak in front of me. My eyes would glue to him while he read his favorite book, or moved his shoulders to his favorite song.

For me that was love, but not a relationship. Because although we were best friends, it had always just been me. I had been the one to fall helplessly in love, I was the one who had her heartbroken when Zayn picked girlfriends, none of them me. I was the one.

And now, I was the one breaking my own heart.

I stammered with my words, dropping my shoulders and breathing roughly against the hollow air.

“Just thinking about tomorrow I guess.” His face softened but again he smiled.

“I have something for you. It’s for tomorrow I guess, but I want to give it to you without all of those people there.” He shuffled off the couch quickly and drug his feet into the next room.

Quickly I composed myself, straightening my shirt and shaking out my hair. Why?

‘Stop doing this to yourself.’

 

You felt the air change as Zayn prodded back into the same room as you. His arms setting a large box in front of you. Not wrapped, no little bow, nothing. He cocked his head towards me and motioned for me to open it.

When I tipped the top off my eyes immediately fell to a Polaroid picture. It was me and Zayn and we were kids, one of our parents must have taken it. We were both in bathing suits and had obviously been enjoying one of the few sunny days in Bradford.

The rest of the box was full of old memorabilia from our childhood, leading up to now. The latest a picture of Zayn and I from my birthday this last year, my current boyfriend had taken the picture. Attached to the back was the bottle cap of my champagne bottle. Another bottle cap attached, the one from my first legal drink.

“You kept all of this?”

“Yeah, I mean you were a big part of my life. I have a bunch of different stuff.”

“It’s not like I’m not going to be part of your life after tomorrow, ya know?” He shrugged, rubbing his eyes again. They weren’t tired eyes, they were sad eyes. And I’d known Zayn long enough to tell.

“I love you.” I whispered, dropping the picture back into the box in front of me.

“Don’t.” He stated gently pushing back away from me. “Don’t say that.” He shook his head almost violently, his eyes watering hard. “You can’t say that to me.”

I nodded in acceptance, shifting around the room for my things. “I’ll just stay in a hotel tonight.”

Was I losing him, had I really lost Zayn? Could my body, my mind physically handle the fact that he wasn’t in my life? Would I be able to move on happily? Would I go everyday looking back at this moment? Would my life me forever changed?

“You’ll still come tomorrow right?” I asked dropping my hand to the door handle.

He turned full body towards me, took a few steps and was in touching distance of me. His fingertips met the warmth of my cheek, and I blushed under his touch. My mind flooded with his touch, his love.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


End file.
